


What I Give You

by LeviSqueaks, MistressPandora



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Dominant Lord John, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Infidelity, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking, Spitroasting, Submissive Jamie Fraser, That would be "Old" Ian Murray btw, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/pseuds/LeviSqueaks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora
Summary: Ian Murray knew that Jamie Fraser and Lord John Grey shared a house. While visiting his friend, Ian learns that they share much more than that. Thanks to rather thin walls, he also learns that the attraction he's harbored for Jamie since their youth is reciprocated.
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey, Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey/Ian Murray
Comments: 26
Kudos: 47
Collections: Lord John Grey Cocoa and Kink 2020, Outlander Bingo Challenge





	What I Give You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cocoa and Kink fic event hosted by the [Lord John Grey Reading Nook](https://lordjohngreyreadingnook.tumblr.com/).
> 
> This story also fills Levisqueaks' Outlander Bingo square: **Jamie/Ian**.

It was possible that the abrupt sound of large furniture under duress in the next room was the result of an accident. Perhaps Lord John was more clumsy than he looked, though Ian doubted it. 

Jamie's hushed voice, muffled through the thin walls came next. "Dinnae look so smug, John Grey. I let ye do it. Ye ken ye cannae move me an’ I didnae wish it."

"Oh, can I not?" Lord John's voice answered.

"Nay, ye—oh _God_ , John," Jamie said in a strangled whisper. Ian wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been focusing on it.

He had never heard that tone from Jamie before in all their years in each other’s company. Well, not until he had gotten a little too close to their room when Claire had been around. He shifted, sitting up in his bed and leaning back against the wall as he closed his eyes, focusing further. He had never expected Jamie to… have that particular interest, before. Though he had spent a distressing amount of his youth imagining it under the stars. Not that he would have ever acted upon those inclinations. Jamie was his chief, his laird, and he had never allowed himself to imagine that this could be a possibility. 

He cocked his head as a thump came from the otherside of the thin wall and he licked his lips. Perhaps they had gotten too deep in their cups and were stumbling about? 

“Stop thrashing and take what I give you.” Lord John’s voice was directly behind Ian, but low. Had Jamie tossed him to the ground?

“I dinnae thrash!” A loud slap came next, followed swiftly by a Scottish yelp that if Ian wasn’t mistaken was equal parts pain and excitement.

“I believe the phrase you’re looking for is _Yes, Sir_ , is it not?”

Jesus, Joseph, and Bride, but that was certainly _not_ just Jamie and his pet redcoat deep in their cups. He shifted on the bed as his cock started to pay as much attention as his ears. Swallowing thickly, he scooted closer so his back was flush with the wall, ear turned so that he could hear better. He wished he was in the room itself so he wouldn’t miss any of it. He could see it now, Lord John in a chair perhaps? With his Laird spread across prim breeches, kilt thrown up about his back and bare-arsed. 

His stomach twisted a bit with the image and he took a shuddering breath, hands clenching into the sheets pooled in his lap. 

"Aye then, _Sir."_ Another slap, and Jamie's yelp trailed off into a groan. "Christ, John!" he hissed. "Oh God, harder." Another smack and Jamie swore in French. 

"Stop—" _slap_. "Rutting—" _slap_. "You'll make a mess."

Ian quickly brought his hand up to muffle a whimper, worried that they would hear him. If he could hear them so closely, then he would have to make sure he stayed deathly quiet lest they realize it. He knew he shouldn’t be listening in to them, but the heavy panting breathing was causing his cock to stand taut, bringing back all of the hazy memories of their youth. He wondered if Jamie’s chest grew red when he was aroused still like it had been when Ian had stumbled in on him masturbating as a teenager in France. The thought of it, of Grey spanking Jamie… of Jamie rocking himself against Gray’s thighs. He bit into the flesh of his hand as his breath hitched and he froze, hoping that Jamie hadn’t heard. 

“I will not,” Jamie argued. Apparently remembering they weren’t alone in the house, he lowered his voice, though his tone grew belligerent. “I solemnly swear that I willnae spill wi’out yer leave, _My Lord.”_

There was a tense pause. Then Lord John’s voice came clearly through the wall, full of steel and thrilling danger. “On your knees, Fraser. Let’s put that smart mouth of yours to good use, shall we?”

“Shh, Ian will hear.” But Jamie’s voice came through the wall from about the height of a tall man kneeling. 

“Christ,” Ian breathed into his palm while gripping himself with the other and squeezing tight. Not a touch and he was close to spilling himself across the bed sheets as if he were fifteen years old. A flush of shame raced through him for the unfaithful thoughts, for finding the thought of Jamie and his pet lord sinning on the other side of the wall so arousing. But the wet slide and Lord John’s loud groan that seemed to echo around him sent a shudder down Ian’s spine and tore a soft whimper from his throat. 

“Good,” Lord John replied, no longer bothering to lower his voice below that of a normal, intimate conversation. _Intimate indeed_. 

“John!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full—oh God in heaven, that’s it.” Lord John’s words devolved into the most sinful, delectable moan Ian had ever heard. Stars above, no wonder Jamie enjoyed his company. “He was the first man you were attracted to, wasn’t he?”

A muffled hum that might have been an affirmative. It was difficult to tell while Jamie’s mouth was occupied.

“He is a beautiful man, I’ll give you that.” Grey moaned again. “Easy, my love, I want this to last. Yes, just like that. Sweet Jesus.” He stopped speaking then, and there came a gentle thump against the wall inches from where Ian sat propped against it, like he’d let his head fall backward.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Grey asked. “That Ian could be listening to you suck my prick. Do you think he’s touching himself?”

Christ alive. It was like Grey wanted him to hear them. The realization halted Ian’s movements. his breath catching in his throat again as he waited for Jamie’s response. Time itself had frozen in that moment. What if Jamie did want Ian to hear them? What if this was the point? _What if he joined them…_

The traitorous thought came from nowhere and he quickly dragged up the pillow to bite into it, desperately trying to muffle a low cry at the thought. His mind was happy to oblige and suddenly he could see it. Grey, with his breeches around his boots, prick hard and weeping as Jamie knelt, plaid draped around him, and ruddy hair wild and tossed about his head as he sank down around Grey’s staff. Ian would love to be there beside his laird, tugging at Jamie’s prick while he watched them before Grey had his way with Jamie and Jamie sucked on Ian’s cock. 

Lord John gasped and groaned. “God, Jamie, your tongue. If he is—touching himself, I mean… Do you think we’ll hear him?”

 _“Merde,_ John, why would ye ask a thing like that?”

“Go lay on the bed. Because I’m curious. Do all Scots come in another language, or is that a personal quirk of yours?”

Jamie laughed. “Ian doesnae have as many languages as I do. I’ve never heard him, to my knowledge. I wouldnae ken.”

“But don’t you _want_ to?” Grey asked darkly.

That was the moment, the question. Ian’s hand stilled on himself, his stomach tensing in anticipation. He suspected that Grey wanted to hear him. Wanted him to… join in to some degree. But he wouldn’t dare give himself away without Jamie also wanting it. He squirmed and immediately froze again once the bed creaked beneath him. He couldn’t take a breath until he heard Jamie’s response. 

“John…” There was something sad in Jamie’s tone that hadn’t been there before. Ian could see his face clearly in his mind, his brow creased in the middle, eyes wide and watery. Just this side of pleading though because a laird doesn’t beg. “I dinnae wish to… Ye ken that I love ye, aye? And nothing will change that.”

Lord John’s words were soft and difficult to make out, but it sounded like, “Jamie, it’s alright. You can tell me.”

A torturous silence. 

“I do still want him. As I did when we were little more than boys in France. But I could never say anything. I was his chief, ken? Love or lust alone, it wouldnae be right.”

Ian let his eyes flutter closed at that quiet confession. His entire life he had loved Jamie. Coveted him, respected him… followed him. He loved him with a passion that had never been matched by another. To hear Jamie admit it was reciprocal? 

“What if I speak with him?” Grey asked.

“I dinnae think that’s wise.”

“Well, it’s either that, or I fuck you as loudly as I can and hope I can hear him. Because if Ian is amenable to it, I desperately want to watch you both finish at the same time.”

“Oh _God_ , John.” Jamie blew out a long sigh. “Alright.”

“Evil fucking English bastard,” Ian grumbled as he twisted his hands in the sheets again and threw the blankets off the bed. 

The next room fell completely silent for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” Grey said.

“Nay, I ken ye heard that—”

“I did. Here, kneel on that and wait. I don’t think it’ll take me long.” There was a horrific, loud clatter and Lord John swore. “I understand you were eager, but how many times do I have to tell you to take _off_ your sword belt before you drop your kilt?”

The gentle thudding of bare feet walking with purpose crossed the room behind the wall. The shutting of a door. Then the house shifted as Lord John moved through it, as if standing at the ready for whatever its master required.

A confident set of knuckles wrapped against Ian’s door three times. “Mr. Murray, may I have a word, please?

Ian ran a hand through curled blonde hair and stared at the door as if it were a viper about to lash out. He shifted forward to sit at the edge of the bed, planting his foot on the floor. He was certainly disheveled, there would be no hiding his state. He reached for his wooden leg and called out, “Come in, Lord John.” 

The knob twisted and the door made a ghost of a creak on its hinges. Lord John stepped through, and _disheveled_ was apparently the going state of affairs. He was wrapped in Jamie’s kilt, the yards and yards of tartan doing very little to preserve Grey’s modesty, though that may have been the point. “I cannot help but think you may have overheard quite a bit of what was happening in our room. I do apologize if the disruption was an unwelcome one.”

Grey’s genteel tone and courteous words were at odds with the exposed delicate bones in his chest and shoulder, and the fly-away hair. Ian spotted a damp red mark at the edge of the clavicle peeking out from under the plaid and he desperately wanted to throw the man down and taste it himself. Grey was pretty enough, though in Ian’s mind he paled in comparison to Jamie. “I was privy to a few moments of conversation, aye.” This dance of words felt more like they were two wolves circling each other, looking for a weakness to exploit. “As it happens, the walls are quite thin.” 

“Yes, so it would seem.” Lord John adjusted the plaid around his shoulders, and whether it was his goal or not, the motion only served to reveal another inch of skin. He straightened then and locked eyes with Ian. “Mr. Murray, I hope that, given the circumstances, you will forgive me for being so forward. But I sense there may be some degree of attraction here.” Grey made a vague gesture, though his hands were both hidden in the folds of the plaid, holding it up. Ian caught a flash of a strong, pale thigh before it disappeared in Jamie’s kilt again. “I know my and Jamie’s feelings on the matter, and I cannot help but wonder that it might be mutual.”

How was it that this proper, stuffy Englishman lost all sense of decorum and decency when he was nervous? It was honestly rather endearing but Ian just swallowed and raised an eyebrow silently in response. 

Lord John let out a sigh and studied the floorboards for a time, then he laughed, shaking his head. “I am clearly in no position to meander politely around the issue, so perhaps it is best if I am rather blunt.” His light eyes pierced Ian. “To be perfectly clear, I do not wish to pressure you into anything you do not want—”

“Christ, Grey, do ye ever get tired of talking?” Ian laughed as he shook his head, “Hand me my leg, if ye will, and I’ll bloody well join ye. We’ve all lost our minds…”

That seemed to throw Lord John for a loop, but he recovered his composure and crossed the narrow distance from the doorway to the chair near the bed. One naked arm emerged from Jamie’s kilt, and he handed Ian his wooden leg that he’d left propped against the chair. “Indeed, I believe we have,” Grey agreed. He leaned Ian’s cane against the bed and took a single step back, still close enough that Ian could smell the wool of the plaid.

Ian reached down to strap his leg on, securing it before using the cane to hoist himself to stand. He stared at John, taking the measure of the man in front of him. He reached forward then and fisted a hand in the plaid wrapped around John, dragging him close to kiss him. It wasn’t Jamie, not the man he had always dreamed of kissing… but there were only moments separating him from that opportunity and this man was the one giving it to him.

He pressed closer to John, the firm angles of their bodies touching here and there, teasing his lips against the other man’s. John’s warmth seeped into the thin material of Ian’s sleep shirt and he shuddered, the familiar scent of Jamie and wool mingling with the aroma of lemon verbena in Lord John’s hair. He pulled back and smirked at John. “Lead the way, Mi’lord.” 

Grey returned the grin. “With pleasure.”

When Lord John pushed open the door to the bedroom he—apparently—shared with Jamie, they were met with the sight of a single bed with rumpled linens. A haphazard trail of discarded clothing stretched much of the floor space, an inviting fire crackled in the hearth. And Jamie. He knelt on a pillow with his hands clasped behind his back, naked and strong and beautiful. He looked up when the door opened and his eyes slid from John to Ian and stayed there. Jamie’s shoulder twitched forward but he didn’t stand. “Ian.”

“Go ahead,” Grey said quietly. “You can go to him.”

Jamie rose and stood before Ian in an instant. Then all at once he lurched forward, took Ian’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Ian dropped his cane and reached up to fist a hand in the mass of red curls and slid the other around Jamie’s waist to anchor them together. Jamie had always been larger than life, massive and breathtaking, and being in his presence was humbling. Ian had always felt strong and proud, but next to his laird he’d felt small. But the hunger in Jamie’s kisses made him feel powerful. “All this time?” he finally asked as he pulled back from Jamie and looked up into his blue eyes. “I married the wrong Fraser,” he muttered against Jamie’s lips. 

"Aye. Since we were lads and I kent what it meant to want ye so." Jamie worked his hands under Ian's shirt, rucking up the fabric. The air against his bare arse was cool but Jamie's hands were warm, strong, and confident. His tongue tasted of earthy red wine and a musky, male aroma—Lord John's cock most likely. Jamie's naked hardness bumped against Ian's under the lifted hem of his shirt. Jamie stopped kissing him and instead latched that beautiful, wide mouth onto the bend of flesh where Ian's throat met his shoulder, sucking with clear intent

Grey had dropped the plaid and come up behind Jamie, wrapping his arms around his middle. They both held him, John and Ian, Jamie's gloriously strong body trapped between them. Lord John closed a hand around Ian and Jamie's cocks, and Jamie moaned against his neck, teeth sharp against his skin.

“Dinnae savage me, Jamie,” Ian hissed and he bucked his hips forward. He swayed, trying to keep his wits and his balance with his laird’s tongue teasing along the edge of bone and muscle. He blinked and stared into Lord John’s eyes and raised an eyebrow in response. He had never had another man’s hand on his cock, and the size and roughness of it sent a thrill down his spine that made his hand spasm in Jamie’s hair. This madness in the wee hours of the night spurred on by wine and lust and bone-deep need was taking over any lick of common sense that Ian ever had. 

A moan rushed out of him as Jamie sucked firmly on his neck, a throbbing pleasure that raced straight to his prick and he shifted, leaning forward to kiss John again over Jamie’s shoulder. 

Lord John had a wicked, demanding tongue, and when he broke off the kiss, his lips were plump, both of them panting. His hand disappeared from between Ian and Jamie and he kept his eyes locked to Ian's. Jamie startled and cried out as if he’d been pinched or prodded, bucking his hips against Ian. "Jamie, my love, why don't you take our dear friend to our bed and make sure he's comfortable."

"Aye then, _My Lord_." The impudence was back and he gave Ian a mischievous smirk barely a second before Grey's hand collided with Jamie's backside with a loud smack. A shiver went through Jamie and his enchanting cat eyes fell closed as he hummed with pleasure.

"Attitude," Grey scolded.

Jamie finished what he had started with Ian's shirt, dropping it to the floor. He didn't look the least bit contrite as he led Ian to the bed.

Ian’s lips twitched in amusement for the sauciness that Jamie was giving Lord John. He hardly expected Jamie to be a demure kitten in bed, but the “attitude” as Grey had dubbed it was clearly intended to goad the Englishman’s ire. Ian was well aware of the Fraser temper and Jamie’s particular tendency to find himself in the fire. He followed Jamie, carefully balancing as he made his way to a firm surface. He regretted dropping his cane and had to sit carefully, unstrapping his leg and letting it fall carelessly before he allowed Jamie to drag him bodily across the linens to lay beside him. 

Pulling Ian into his arms, Jamie's hands wandered, kneading, stroking, caressing all the skin he could reach. Their legs tangled together, Jamie's cock resting heavy on Ian's thigh. 

Lord John stood near the bed, staring down at them with lust in his eyes. He tugged lazily at his own stiff prick. "You can touch him, Ian. I think he wants you to."

Jamie's hand tightened on Ian's arse. "Oh God, aye." A shallow thrust of his hips sent the silky hard line of his cock sliding over Ian's leg. "However ye want."

Ian considered that and threw his leg over Jamie's hip to roll him on his back, straddling him. Jamie was a vision, all strong lines and flowing hair and lidded eyes. His cock was purpling with blood and eagerness. 

Ian leaned down then, running his hands slowly up Jamie's chest. He relished the feeling of heated skin beneath him and let his nails scratch pink lines up across pale skin. This position was easy without his leg, allowing him height and leverage as he leaned down to kiss Jamie and rock against him. He could feel the wetness of Jamie's cock trail across his own hip and he desperately wanted to know what it tasted like. 

Mind made up, he dropped kisses down Jamie's neck and reached up for those strong hands. 

Someone let out a shuddering breath when Jamie took Ian's hands in his. It may have been Lord John still staring at them with a look of unashamed desire, or Jamie himself whose muscles felt tightly coiled under him, shivering with the effort of control. 

Ian pulled Jamie's hands close to his head and then shifted to hold his wrists, pressing them into the bed before staring down at his laird.

Naked hunger was clear in Ian's eyes, he couldn't hide his desire even if he wanted to. Not now, while he had a veritable feast spread before him. "Lord John, might I call upon yer help?" he asked, goading Jamie's pet Englishman to join them. He turned back and met Jamie's eyes. "Keep these here. Dinnae move them. Ye'll no’ like the consequences an’ ye disobey me." 

A grin that could only be described as _impish_ flitted across Jamie's face as he wiggled the fingers of his left hand, though he kept his wrist planted firmly to the mattress. 

Lord John twisted his hand into Jamie's ruddy hair and tugged his head back to look at him. "If he has to punish you, then so do I. Do you understand?"

Jamie's eyes rolled back in his head. "Och, I cannae wait."

Ian bent down to nip sharply at one of Jamie's nipples, delighting in how he startled. "Ye forget, Jamie… I've lived wi’ yer sister and six wee bairns… I'm nay stranger to a strong switch." 

He let the threat sink in before he shifted further down the bed and applied himself to licking up Jamie's cock. 

Jamie arched his back and gasped, and Lord John leaned into his task of pinning his wrists to the bed. With a filthy curse in German, Jamie struggled against John's grip. "I'll take whatever switch ye—" 

His words died with a muffled choke as John replaced one of his hands with a knee and used the angle to lower his cock into Jamie's mouth. "There now, isn't that better? How am I supposed to fuck you senseless if your arse is shredded, hmm?" Grey's chest heaved with his ragged breathing, and he made eye contact with Ian. Jamie's throat worked as he sucked and swallowed around John's prick. 

“That’s a bonny look for him, aye,” Ian managed with a raspy voice as he watched John feed his cock to Jamie. He was nearly trembling with need as he slowly took the thick head of Jamie’s cock in his mouth. It was unfamiliar and a bit daunting. But watching Jamie struggle to swallow around Grey’s thick prick was a dream come true. Ian could scarcely believe it was real. 

Jamie cried out, the sound muffled by John's cock. Lord John groaned and shuddered, watching Ian with wide eyes. "Yes, for the both of you. Fuck, Jamie. This is what your mouth is _truly_ for. My God." 

Jamie's legs were spread wide to either side of Ian, trembling as if with some great effort. "Oh, I see," Grey said. "You want Ian's fingers, don't you?" 

He pulled away enough for Jamie to answer in the affirmative, then filled his mouth with prick again. "Such a greedy boy. Ian, give me your hand." Grey sucked two of Ian's fingers into his mouth, teasing them with his tongue. 

Ian shuddered as he felt the slick suckle and suddenly imagined it on his cock instead. _Fuck,_ but having Jamie’s pet lord sucking his cock was a truly wonderful image. Perhaps another time he would have the privilege of seeing that particular fantasy become reality, too. 

He understood the mechanics of how two men would lie together but had never put that understanding into practice, so he fumbled a bit as he moved to press one of the spit-slickened fingers against Jamie’s entrance. He watched Jamie carefully as he shifted on one arm for better leverage and applied pressure, eventually slipping one in. Jamie was hot and tight… hotter and tighter than he had ever felt before and the thought of John fucking into Jamie here made Ian’s cock throb in excitement. “Ye’re perfect, Jamie… going to take him sae well and I’ll love watching ye.” 

Thrashing beneath them, Jamie let out incoherent shouts around Grey's cock. John gasped and swore, pushing into Jamie's mouth with impressively careful thrusts. "Christ, Ian. You must be doing amazing things to him. _Fuck, Jamie_. Easy, my love. Neither of us is coming from this yet."

The sound that came from Jamie next could only be described as a miserable whimper. But he stilled. Somewhat.

Ian let loose a shaky breath as he watched John and Jamie both try to calm down. He was glad that Jamie seemed so receptive to the careful thrusts of his fingers. He waited until pressing his finger into Jamie became an easy slide before he carefully added a second. Ian felt lightheaded with his desire and pleasure and the incredulity he felt being with these two men. Eventually he pressed a third finger into Jamie and bent to suck his cock again, licking across the slick head and moaning when he felt Jamie clamp down tightly around his fingers in response. 

Grey yelped and flicked a finger roughly against Jamie’s nipple. “Teeth,” he chided, and Jamie made a desperate sound. Lord John pulled his cock out of Jamie’s mouth and got off the bed. 

Jamie was an absolute mess, hair hopelessly wild, mouth swollen and wet. He gasped for breath. “Ian. Ian, _oh God._ ” Glazed eyes turned to Lord John, crazed with need. “Please, Sir. Fuck me, please.” Apparently lairds _did_ beg on occasion.

“I will,” John answered, mopping the sweat from Jamie’s brow with a tender palm. Whether it was his own perspiration or John’s was impossible to tell. “And you’re going to show Ian how appreciative you are that he made you ready for me.”

"Christ," Ian managed thickly and he surged forward to grab Jamie by his hair and kiss him deeply. He felt the burning need to have Jamie or be had by him clawing at him. The need and desperation of it burned in his gut and he broke the kiss, panting as he felt John's hand slide down across his hip. "Ye look a mess," he teased lightly. 

Jamie’s expression was thoroughly mad with desire. “Make it worse, aye?” He rolled on top of Ian, jabbing his cockstand into his leg, rutting against him. “I could take ye like this, ken. If ye let me.”

Grey laid a firm hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “You’ll be taking nothing this evening, my love, save for my prick in your arse and Ian’s down your throat. Now let your friend sit up so he can watch while I fuck you.”

Ian laughed softly and he arched up to kiss Jamie, using the space to scoot back against the headboard so that he could be steady. His eyes roamed over the two other men and he crooked a smile at Jamie fondly. "There is always next time, now that we ken" He paused and glanced up at John, curious to see if there would even be the chance. 

Taking a position behind Jamie and yanking him up onto all fours with what looked like a savage grip on his hips, Grey nodded.

“Aye, next time,” Jamie agreed with a genuine smile. He gave Ian another kiss, licking into his mouth but only briefly. Without breaking eye contact, Jamie bent and took Ian’s cock into his mouth. He took his time about it, hot, wet tongue working him over until Jamie had taken him all the way to the root.

Lord John gave Ian a knowing smirk as he poured a bit of oil into his palm. “He’s good at that, isn’t he?”

Ian's head fell back as his fingers stroked reverently through Jamie's hair and a low whine tore itself from his throat. "Christ, Jamie!" he whimpered, hips stuttering upwards as Jamie slid his tongue up against a sensitive ridge. "Ye trained him up well," he managed as he tried not to show exactly how affected he was. "I think he's earned yer cock now, Lord John." 

From his vantage point, Ian couldn’t see Grey’s prick sink into Jamie, but the evidence was apparent. Jamie moaned and his lips compressed around Ian’s cock, squeezing him tight with that wet mouth. Lord John gripped Jamie’s hips, knuckles and fingertips white, his lovely mouth falling open in ecstasy. Neither Jamie nor John bothered to hold back, to feign stoicism. They moaned, gasped, swore, touched whatever they damn well pleased of each other. When Lord John thrust hard into Jamie, it pitched him forward, shoving the head of Ian’s cock into his throat.

Ian swore in Gaelic and panted. He had been with Jenny for over fifteen years and had a helping hand a time in France before his marriage . But having someone swallow down his prick while moaning was not an experience he'd ever had. This was the night for firsts and Ian wasn't entirely sure he would survive it. 

He gathered some of Jamie's wild hair up in his hand so he could watch the man's jaw bulge as he tried to catch his breath around Ian's cock. Jamie's body was rocking between John and Ian, increasing in speed as John lost himself in his own pleasure. 

A tear or two streamed from Jamie’s eyes and he reached for his own cock. Lord John noticed and delivered him a brutal slap to the arse cheek. Jamie snatched his hand away from himself, cupping Ian’s balls instead. 

“Incorrigible boys don’t get to touch themselves,” Grey said, pounding into Jamie and slamming him harder and harder over Ian’s cock. “Service your friend. You can finish when he does.”

Jamie whimpered and whined, his tongue doing truly sinful things to Ian’s cock.

"Willnae take much," Ian panted and his stomach trembled as his hips rocked up at the intimate fondling. Jamie's hot breath and the obscene sounds they were all making was more than enough to throw him over. The fierce suckle that Jamie gave next drew thick cursing as Ian tensed and threw his head back with a low cry of Jamie's name. 

Jamie swallowed down every last drop he gave him, drinking it greedily. Grey wrapped his arms around Jamie’s middle and hauled him up and off Ian’s prick, still licking seed from his lips. Lord John pumped his fist over Jamie’s cock and bit into his shoulder.

“Ian— _God—John!”_ Jamie’s release spilled over John’s hand, to the linens beneath them, onto Ian’s thigh. 

With a shout, Lord John followed him over the edge. They collapsed, shaking, onto the bed next to Ian, Grey still clinging to Jamie from behind, and Jamie tugged Ian into his arms. When Jamie kissed him, the taste of himself was on his tongue.

Ian still felt like his heart might rip itself from his chest as he tried to calm himself down. He gasped for breath and kissed Jamie back as he turned to curl into his laird's chest, snuggling close and kissing John's arm. The cool air helped to relax them after they caught their breath and eventually, Ian reached to drag the bedclothes up and over them with a yawn. 

Every inch of Ian was heavy with satisfaction and pleasure and all he wanted was to sleep. 

Lord John stroked Jamie’s muscular arm with a gentle hand. “Do you think you’ll behave yourself next time, my love?”

Jamie snorted, his eyes closed and handsome face relaxed toward sleep. “No’ a chance.”

“I thought not.” Grey reached over Jamie and smoothed the hair from Ian’s face, the touch tender and dreamy. “I’m very glad you decided to join us.”

Ian turned his face slightly to kiss John's palm. "Aye, thank ye for being loud. And God bless thin walls."


End file.
